


Incompatibility

by spaceliquid



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Memory Loss, Mildly Dubious Consent, Size Difference, Switching Roles, basically your usual TFP post-Season 1 drill, otherwise he's perfectly willing, since Optimus doesn't have his memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceliquid/pseuds/spaceliquid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long ago, Orion Pax and Megatronus discovered that they didn't fit together as well as they thought. They found a way around this problem, though. </p>
<p>Now, Orion Pax and Megatron don't have those difficulties anymore, but fitting together is harder than ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incompatibility

**Then**

The door to the small underground cell that served Megatronus as his private quarters swung open, slamming into the wall, and then was closed with a badly aimed kick. The automatic lock clicked, but neither Megatronus, nor Orion noticed it: they were too engrossed in each other.

Orion was practically shaking. He had been waiting for this for so long, yearned for the chance to feel Megatronus’s hands roaming his body, for hot kisses that turned sloppy with impatience, for being swept off his feet and taken with indomitable force. Now, when it was finally happening, his knees were wobbly, all systems burned with overheating and the only thought that stayed coherent in his head was _oh Primus I must not make a fool of myself_.

Fortunately, for now he seemed to do well, if the hungry rev of Megatronus’s engine was any clue. And when Orion was finally placed on a narrow berth, he didn’t hesitate a second to retract his interface panel and pull Megatronus closer…

Which didn’t actually work, because Megatronus remained where he was, peering down between their frames.

“Damn,” he muttered, optics narrowing. “I didn’t think about that.”

“About what? What’s wrong?” Orion wriggled, all of his previous nervousness crashing down on him full-force.

“Our systems are incompatible. With the difference in size and all.”

“So what? We can still connect! Come on!” Orion pulled at Megatronus’s shoulders and, when the gladiator didn’t move, tried to guide his more than impressive length to the open port, so that Megatronus had to grab his wrists.

“Orion! Are you insane!? I’ll wreck your port to scrap! You’re going to explain it to the medic yourself.” The corners of his mouth twitched in either irritation or contained laughter, but Orion was in no mood for jokes.

“But what about… How are we gonna ‘face then? Are we not gonna ‘face?” The archivist looked crestfallen, like he’s just been robbed of a winning lottery ticket. He was so close to the realization of his dreams, he was already anticipating it, only for it to be snatched right from his fingers.

“Calm down, there are plenty ways to frag,” Megatronus chuckled. “We can just use our hands, or suck each other off. I’ve been told I’m quite good at that,” he licked his lips, but Orion didn’t look cheered up.

“I know, it’s just… I mean, I just wanted…” his voice faded. He wasn’t sure how to confess without sounding silly that he imagined how his first time should go in details and wished for it to be like in the novels he read. And really, it _was_ silly. They were going to change the world, to help the people of Cybertron, and Orion still held on to the fantasies based on old books.

But Megatronus surprised him again.

“Very well,” he smiled and moved away, helping perplexed Orion to his feet. Then he sat down on the table and positioned the archivist right between his legs.

Orion’s jaw dropped.

“You… You want me to..?”

“Well, you did want your first time to feature full connection. And this way you won’t get hurt.”

Orion continued to gawk at his friend. Alright… This was something he never imagined before. The idea that he could be the one fragging Megatronus’s port hadn’t even crossed his mind! He would never dare to suggest something like this out of fear of insulting the gladiator. To hear the Terror of Kaon offer it himself…

Megatronus tilted his head.

“What, is there some Iaconian tradition that forbids it?” His optics twinkled. “Or are you afraid you’ll fail miserably?”

This comment made Orion frown.

“I _won’t_ fail miserably!” he blurted out, confidence returning to him. Oh, he’ll wipe this cocky smirk from Megatronus’s face and make him scream Orion’s name, even if it’s the last thing he does! He was sick of those bulky fighters and laborers underestimating him, looking at him like he was some spoiled flimsy towerling. Not that Megatronus ever did that… But it didn’t matter, he’ll get a demonstration anyway. Gritting his dental plates, Orion placed his hands on the silvery thighs, spreading them wider, and pushed forward.

The heat of the port overwhelmed him for a moment, and Orion froze, struggling with the dazzling tide of pleasure – but then their systems came to life, adapting to each other: the port’s walls cycled down, clenching around Orion, and his connector unfurled and clung to the nodes presented to it, immediately beginning to spill the energy.

Orion cried out and jerked his hips, his interface system working on its own while he was drowning in the flood of sensations, too wild and unbridled, too new. Only after some moments that seemed unbelievably long did Orion manage to take control over himself and the energy flow, starting a somewhat uneven rhythm.

Large fingers dug into his back, scratching the red paint, and somewhere over his head a hoarse voice breathed out:

“O-ri-on…”

The archivist shuddered, his pleasure suddenly intensified tenfold, and his spark soared with pride and impossible gentleness that he never dared to voice, never dared to show. This was what caused his knees to give out at last; they fell on the table, Orion resting his weight on Megatronus. Now the tips of his feet barely reached the ground, making his movements clumsy, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered. He was mewling and moaning and muttering gibberish, Megatronus’s powerful thighs threatened to crush his waist between them, but Orion could only clutch at the protruding spikes of the scuffed battle armor as he was writhing in the shocks of impending overload.

He had never felt this good in his entire life.

**Now**

Orion still couldn’t get used to just how massive he became. The last time he saw Megatronus he had to throw back his head to look his friend in the eye, but now Orion and Megatronus – no, Megatron, Lord Megatron – were of nearly the same height. In fact, most of the Decepticon soldiers only reached Orion’s chest, which made walking around the ship rather tricky; Orion was constantly afraid to hurt somebody by not being careful with his unexpected strength.

Megatron never told him what had happened to him, but Orion didn’t even need to ask. Thick armored plating, mighty servos, battlemask to protect his face… While Orion was in stasis in the hands of the Autobots, whose grim frowning emblems had to be erased from Orion’s shoulders, he was fashioned into a weapon. A warrior to fight… it wasn’t hard to guess whom.

Fortunately, it was avoided. What would Megatron do if he faced his long lost brother on a battlefield? The mere thought that he could be the cause of his friend’s death made Orion nauseous.

But it was difficult to get accustomed to this new world where the former archivist woke up. The world where Cybertron went dark, where they were exiles on a far off planet with only this ship as their home.

And Megatron – Megatron changed too, face scarred and optics glowing red, with sharp claws where normal blunt fingers once were. Orion caught himself thinking that he didn’t quite recognize this mech anymore, and Megatron seemed to struggle with the same problem. It was sad that they became so distant, especially now, when they needed each other’s company the most.

However, no matter how different Megatron was now, he still was the only familiar person Orion had around. There was also Soundwave, but the silent mech never liked Orion in the past, and now his wordless resentment appeared to have only grown. The rest of the crew stayed away from him, all conversations dying when Orion entered the room. The sole exception was Knock Out, a pretty medic with bright red plating who winked at him and offered to come spend some “quality time” if he felt lonely, but this thinly veiled suggestion only made Orion uncomfortable.

The ship was dark and cold and unwelcoming – and so it was no wonder that, despite his reservations, Orion found himself in Megatron’s cabin late in the evening, with a cube of energon in his hands and an awkward silence hanging over them. And it was no wonder that, desperate to dissolve that thick atmosphere of _I don’t know you anymore_ , Orion put the cube aside and kissed his old friend, searching for a trace of the familiar taste he remembered.

Megatron didn’t move for some time, and Orion was already prepared to curse his own rashness and step away, when those clawed hands finally lay on his waist and warm glossa slipped into his mouth, careful and almost reluctant. This was so unlike the gladiator Orion once knew, and yet the archivist moaned with relief, settling in Megatron’s lap. It was but a glimpse of home – but for now, it was enough.

But as the kiss grew more heated, they both became bolder. Orion hummed, rubbing his frame against Megatron almost lewdly, and for the first time since his awakening he didn’t feel burdened by his huge body. In fact, he had just had a splendid idea…

“It would seem I am larger now, brother,” he murmured into Megatron’s audial. “As if I was created to be your match.” Megatron tensed at these words, but Orion didn’t pay much attention to it. “I believe we are perfectly compatible now,” he continued as he leaned even closer, lips almost touching the side of the Decepticon lord’s helm. “I want _you_ inside _me_.”

Cheesy as it sounded, but it had the desired effect: Megatron’s EM field flared with unadulterated lust, and Orion yelped as he was lifted in the air and then practically thrown on the berth, Megatron’s strange red optics blazing above him. Orion just smiled at him, suddenly reminded of their first time so long ago, so far away; and, just like back then, all of his anxiety dissipated. His interface panel opened without prompting, and this time Orion got exactly what he wanted.

And oh, they fit together perfectly, like they were truly created to match each other. Orion arched his back, mindlessly reaching for his partner with all of his body, wailing, calling for him, and Megatron answered with a low guttural growl and a forceful surge that made electric bolts dance over Orion’s seams and antennas.

“That’s it,” Megatron breathed out between heavy vents, “that’s what you always wanted, isn’t it? To surrender to me... Isn’t it?” He grasped Orion’s hips and jerked them up, urging a reply.

“Aaah! Y-yes!” Orion didn’t even realize fully what he was saying, only wishing to prolong this delightful ride, but he must’ve said something right, because Megatron’s engine outright _roared_. He leaned down, covering Orion with his frame, as if trying to keep him there, to trap him, deep laugh reverberating in his chest. Megatron’s voice rumbled near his audial, velvety with pleasure and dark satisfaction:

“The Autobots don’t even know just how much they lost… And that soon they will lose completely.”

Orion didn’t quite understand what this phrase had to do with anything, but he didn’t have a chance to care, for in the next moment an overload claimed him, and for a time being all his woes were gone.


End file.
